Before I take my first shot, JJ introduces me to the person sitting next to him who’s clearly not interested in being here. I half-wonder if she was paid to be around him by the way she’s acting.
“Victoria,” he snaps, grabbing her attention. “Meet Liam. One of my poker friends.”
Leaning forward, she smiles, showing her pearly whites and generous chest. She’s stunning, the type of woman I’ve brought home on countless occasions without apology.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell her, holding out my hand.
“You too.” She eye fucks me hard, making me wonder who she is to JJ. A moment later, he excuses himself, and she takes the opportunity to slide into the seat next to me.
“So tell me about you, Liam,” she says. Grabbing her glass of wine, she takes a sip.
I laugh because women aren’t usually so direct, but she oozes confidence. She has money, the diamonds on her fingers and dainty Rolex on her wrist say as much. Moving closer, she places her hand on my thigh, and the last thing I need is JJ waltzing up and seeing his woman nearly sitting in my lap.
“So are you and JJ…?” I flick a finger around, making sure I understand their relationship before I say a damn thing.
She bursts into laughter, squeezing my leg. “God no. He’s my idiot brother.”
I slightly retreat and look into her emerald green eyes, noticing the resemblance. They both have fair skin, blond hair, and more money than they know what to do with.
“Ahh, I see it now,” I say with a smirk, and she gives me a sultry smile. JJ eventually returns but sits on the other side of me as Victoria keeps the conversation going. She seems smart, knows exactly when to laugh, and acts interested in everything I say. The bartender works hard to keep the drinks flowing because JJ keeps buying shots for everyone, and I order a beer.
“So you like to play poker?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Yeah, a little.”
JJ interrupts. “He’s the next poker star, guaranteed. Vivi, you should see the bluffs he makes. It’s incredible to watch.”
“Mesmerizing, I’m sure,” she purrs, licking her lips. Victoria gives me all the signals, and if she doesn’t watch out, I might take her up to my room. After a while, she excuses herself, and JJ leans in close.
“Have you thought about my offer anymore?” he asks, referring to the conversation we had six weeks ago. “I put up the buy-in, you play, and we split the winnings fifty-fifty.”
I know how mentally exhausting it is to play in extremely high-stakes games and how expensive they are, but it’s possible to make millions if you’re good enough.
“And if I lose?” I ask, knowing I wouldn’t have the money to pay him back if I did.
“You won’t,” he tells me with a grin. “The games I’d get you in would be full of old guys who don’t know how to play. It’d almost be a guaranteed win.”
With his fortune, he has access to exclusive tournaments I don’t. He’s lost every time we’ve been head to head at a table, so I guess me losing is no different than him doing it himself. At least this way, he knows he has a chance to make something.
Essentially, in this situation, I’m his racehorse. He sits back, puts up the cash, and I run the track. If I win, he wins. If I lose, he loses. It’s more than fair, considering he takes the financial burden, and I double our money. Seems easy enough.
After another sip of my drink, I give him my answer. “Yeah, I’ll play a few rounds.”
“Fuck yeah!” JJ exclaims, ordering double celebratory shots. “How long you in town for?”
“A week,” I say as the bartender sets a half-full glass of Jägermeister in front of me. I hate the shit, but I swallow it down anyway. If I make as much money as he thinks is possible, I could essentially take fewer bounty jobs and consider playing poker professionally. The opportunity to change the path of my future is what makes me agree to it. I don’t make bets when the odds are stacked against me, but in this case, I’m confident in my skills. I’m not cocky, though, because I also know higher stakes mean more risk.
He brushes his hand across the stubble on his chin. “You up to playing tomorrow? There’s a high roller game here tomorrow. Closer to the end of the week, I know of a private, invite-only tourney. Winner takes a quarter of a million.”
My eyes widen in shock. “What’s the buy-in for that?”
“Hundred grand.” He throws the number out like it’s no big deal.
I nearly choke on my beer. “Winner takes all?”
He nods. “Six-person hold ’em.”
I sweat bullets thinking about it. “And what do you know about the players?”